


Don’t You Know That I’ll Be Around to Guide You

by pale_morning_sings_of_forgotten_things



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, Bigotry & Prejudice, First War with Voldemort, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Growing Apart, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Hogwarts, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Minor Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Multi, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Reunions, Young Remus Lupin, also a lot of angst because you know how the story of the marauders go, jily, there will be a lot of cute moments, wolfstar, wolfstar and jily will eventually happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pale_morning_sings_of_forgotten_things/pseuds/pale_morning_sings_of_forgotten_things
Summary: ”Well, we can be friends,” you reply, optimistically, trying to sound confident while you give the boy a small smile. As simple as that, or at least you hope.Remus immediately looks up at you and his eyes look like gold in the sunlight.”Are you sure?””Of course,” you reply and smile wider.What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.- Aristotle
Relationships: Dorcas Meadowes & Reader, James Potter & Reader, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Reader, Marlene McKinnon & Reader, Peter Pettigrew & Reader, Remus Lupin & Original Character(s), Remus Lupin & Original Female Character(s), Remus Lupin & Reader, Sirius Black & Reader, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. First Day of School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies, anyone who've stumbled onto this story, and welcome!
> 
> This fic is a little special to me. It's different, and sort of an experiment, because all of it is written in second person POV. I used to write a lot of reader insert one-shots on Tumblr a couple of years back, but this project is much bigger so in that way it's different from anything I've written before.
> 
> All of this started out as just a drabble with some ideas for Remus Lupin (probably my favorite HP character) and a best friend, and then it turned into sort of like a challenge to see how far I could take it, without including any descriptions of the reader, without any name or the use of Y/N (I think it looks messy, but I probably just got too tired of it from Tumblr).
> 
> Hopefully I've succeeded in creating a story and describing relationships that make you feel something despite all of this. We'll see. Otherwise, all I will say is that I hope you enjoy the story of you and your friends exploring the wizarding and muggle world together.

**1968, Wales**

You turn your head to the sky, feeling the September sun washing your face in warmth, although the air has that sort of crisp to it, that it only has in the beginning of autumn. In the distance you can hear other kids playing, light screams echoing across the school yard, feet hammering against the ground. 

It’s the first day of the semester, the first day of a new school year. On top of that it’s the first day for you in this school, as you and your parents moved here during the summer. It had been a quite boring summer break, alone in a new town where you don’t know anyone, and you had really looked forward to the school start. You hadn’t been very nervous though, because your mum told you that anyone would want to be friends with you, and naturally, you trusted her. And now you were sitting by a table outside with a group of girls.

They all have bows in their long hair, a couple have theirs in neat plaits. Your mum had coaxed you into a similar hairdo this morning — it’s the first day of school, after all, it’s important to look somewhat nice — but you really do like your hair better either tied up entirely or just loose. And besides, their bows are bigger and more colourful than your black one and their plaits are somehow more elegant, so it doesn’t really matter anyway.

You turn your attention away from the sun and your own thoughts and back to them. The girls are bickering about what to play, and you try to keep up with the conversation after having spaced out for a moment, but really, you’re not that interested. Instead, your eyes drift to the football pitch — that’s really just a piece of grass lawn — and you watch the boys. They are wrestling currently, not actually playing football at all because the ball is rolling down the school yard and away from them, all while roaring. You scrunch up your nose, deciding that sticking with the girls are your best option after all and you really should begin to take interest in their games before you’re left entirely alone. 

But then you notice a boy, strolling by himself in a corner. He’s a bit smaller than the other boys, making you believe that he’s younger than you are. He’s dressed in the male version of the same school uniform you’re clad in; white collared shirt, grey pullover with the school emblem and matching grey trousers instead of a skirt. His hair is a light brown shade, that almost looks golden in the sunlight, a little wavy and his fringe is floppy, falling into his face as he bends down, inspecting a particular spot of the grass. He looks lonely, but maybe he prefers it that way. You don’t know. 

”Who’s that?” you speak up for the first time in a long while and the girls look up at you. 

”Who?” one of them asks, a girl with long, blond plaits. 

”That boy over there,” you clarify, pointing at the boy, who’s begun strolling again, along the fence by the forest. 

”Oh, that’s just Remus,” the girl replies; Julie, you think her name is. 

You let out a soft hum, eyes still on the boy. You’ve never, ever heard of anyone called Remus.

”Is he in our year?” you ask, looking back at the girls.

”Yeah,” Diane speaks up, a brunette that you already can tell is the de-facto leader of the small group. ¨

She’s the one who invited you to sit with them, but you haven’t talked with her much more than that, so far.

So, Remus is just small then, you conclude. ”Why is he alone?”

”The other boys pick on him,” she explains, also looking out over the school yard now, as if she’s lost in her thoughts for a moment. 

You feel vaguely guilty for disrupting their play and a ginger girl, whose name you can’t for the life of you remember, looks rather annoyed. But you’ve already started the conversation, so might as well pretend you don’t see her glare and go on. 

”Why?” 

”Because he’s really _weird,”_ Diane responds like it’s obvious and a couple of the others snickers. 

You frown at them, confused, and they stop. 

”How come?” you ask, before you can stop yourself. 

”Because… just _because!_ He’s quiet and doesn’t like football or wrestling and sometimes he gets really angry and just goes into a screaming fit,” she goes on, giving you a weird look. ”Why do you even care?”

You lean back, and try to relax your furrowed eyebrows. ”Just curious.” 

Diane looks skeptical, one of her thin eyebrows raised, but seems to let it go. ”All right, then.”

”So, what would you rather play?” Julie asks, steering the attention back to the games. Every minute that passes by means less time until the next lesson starts. 

”Oh, it doesn’t matter,” you reply, flashing them a small smile. 

”Okay, I was thinking that maybe we could—” Julie begins, turning her friends. 

”Actually,” you begin, but then blush a little once you realise that you interrupted her. You had accidentally stopped listening again, eyes having drifted back to Remus once more. ”Sorry… I was just gonna say that you can go ahead and play without me, it’s alright.”

”What, where are you going?” Diane questions her dark eyes bright with confusion, almost looking like she’s going to reach out and stop you. 

”I was just going to say hi to Remus,” you reply innocently, your eyes drifting between Diane and the girls and the boy. ”He looks lonely.”

”Don’t—” Diane begins but the ginger interrupts her.

”Let her go,” she says, looking directly at Diane, as if you aren’t there. ”It’s whatever.”

”Fine,” Diane replies, turning to you then. ”But you’ll regret it. We’ll be here, waiting.”

You try and barely manage to keep the frown off your face at that, feeling uncomfortable under their judging stares. You feel the urge to tell them that you're _not_ going to regret it, but of course, you don’t know Remus yet. It’s just funny how they are dressed in skirts and bows and shined shoes and still manage to be threatening. Almost a little scary. 

You end up nodding once, before whirling around, hair flicking and walking away, leaving them behind. Only a few metres away, you hear their conversation pick up again, right where they left off. Heading towards an unassuming Remus, your stride gets longer — as long your short legs can offer — and you lift your head a little, trying to look like you know what you’re doing. Fake it until you make it, as your dad always says. 

You do, however, slow down when you see the clan of previously wrestling boys heading towards him too. Remus seems to see them rather than you, because he freezes for a moment and stares at them, before picking up his pace, hurrying along the fence. You watch warily how the situation escalates, but even as it’s just starting, you can tell that it’s not going to end too well for the small, floppy-haired boy, so you start walking faster again. The boys are much closer though, and you see them bend down and fill their hands with gravel from underneath the swings. A spark of dread twists your stomach as your brain puts together the pieces and you understand what is about to happen. 

Judging by Remus's reaction it has happened before. 

You start running. The boys snicker, taking their time, and Remus tries not to run, tries to act calm, but there’s fear on his face, even you can recognise it, from afar. 

Since you’re the only one actually running, you catch up and before you know it you are skidding to a halt — almost slipping to your embarrassment, but considering the situation you forget about it quickly — in front of the boys. Confusion of various degrees spreads on their faces as they stare at you, about to launch the stone pebbles at Remus, but freezing mid-swing. _Remus_ , a boy who you’ve never talked to, and might very well actually be weird and angry, but now you’re here, having followed your instinct and now your feet feel heavy as concrete, unable to move. 

”What are you doing?” you question, before either of them have found their voice. ”That’s not nice.”

”What are _you_ doing?” the boy in the front counters, blinking. ”Who are you, even?”

You open your mouth to answer, but another one in the back is quicker. ”She’s new.”

The one closest to you with ruffled dark hair and crooked teeth, squints his eyes at you. But he’s not as quick-witted as Diane and lets it go, opening his small hand and the stones clatter against the other, untouched ones as they fall to the ground. The air around you is filled with a smattering murmur as the rest of the group does the same.

They glare at you, as they one by one dramatically turn around and head the other way, reminding you vaguely of a flock of birds, or a fish shoal, always following each other around. You stand your ground and glare right back in return until they all disappear. By the end of it you almost laugh at yourself, because you’ve managed to get on over ten people’s bad side over half an hour, tops. 

That must be a new personal record. This is going _great_. 

”What did you do that for?” comes a low voice from behind you though, and you whirl around, the shadow of a soft smile on your face. 

”They were going to be mean,” you begin, frowning a little when that didn’t seem like a good enough explanation to the boy, who continues to look confused, or maybe even _suspicious_.

”They always are,” Remus replies with a shrug, looking small and a little miserable, ”but thank you.”

”No problem,” you beam. ”So what are you doing?”

”Nothing really,” Remus shrugs again, staring at the grass underneath his feet. ”Keeping away from them I guess. They don’t let me play with them, so.”

”Well, we can be friends,” you reply, optimistically, trying to sound confident. As simple as that, or at least you hope. 

Remus immediately looks up at you and his eyes look like gold in the sunlight.

”Are you sure?”

”Of course,” you smile.

”Why do you not trust them?” Remus questions, suddenly looking suspicious again. ”They must’ve told you about me.”

”It’s always best to decide for yourself,” you reply, trying to sound wise. Your mum had said something along those lines to you, once, and you had decided that you liked that. 

A small smile hesitantly makes its way onto Remus’s face and you smile back, only bigger. ”I haven’t seen you before.”

”Nope,” you reply, popping the p. ”I moved here this summer.”

”Why would you do that?” Remus blurts, frowning and looking utterly confused.

You let out a laugh, surprised by his reaction. ”Well, _I_ didn’t get to choose. My parents did. I dunno why, something about dad’s work.”

”Oh,” Remus murmurs before flashing you a crooked smile. ”What’s your name then?”

You reach out your hand immediately and formally introduce yourself — just the way your parents do — feeling dumb when you realise that he doesn’t know your name still, while you know his. It makes you feel like a complete weirdo. He shakes it and smiles.

”Nice to meet you,” he says then.

”Nice to meet you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was the first chapter, hope you enjoyed it somewhat at least. Easy, breezy one could say. Fairly short too, but I assure you that future chapters will be longer (sometimes very long because there was no natural place to part them into two). But maybe people like short chapters? I don't know, but I like long ones heheh.
> 
> I also made this as a draft a while back to sort of motive myself to write on this story (which I have) since AO3 automatically deletes them after a while. And I'm nowhere near done, but I at least have up to 60 000 words written so far and a plan so it feels alright, despite not having it all done.
> 
> Either way, this is just the beginning. There's A LOT more to come, that I can promise.


	2. Knowing Remus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Remus getting to know each other and meeting his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellu! In all honesty I haven't been able to write much lately (I've been so indescribably busy) so that's why I've been waiting a bit with this chapter so I don't catch up with myself. Basically, I have the ending pretty much done but it's the Hogwarts years that are a bit more fuzzy, but I'm working on it. I have somewhat of a plan.

**Meeting Remus's Family**

You and Remus spend the rest of that school day together, as much as you can, because it’s as simple as that, becoming friends. 

And the day after that.

The third day Diane asks if you shouldn’t play with them instead, and Remus quietly tells you to go when you glance over at him but you end up shaking your head. Maybe you hadn’t given the girls a fair chance, but you’ve found a friend in Remus now — you can already tell, you’ve never just _clicked_ with someone like this before — and feel perfectly content when telling Diane ’thank you but no’.

Remus had twinkled like a star for the rest of that day after you did that, looking happy and light which in turn made you smile. He is different from most kids you’ve met before, you decide. He is shy and introverted and sometimes a little insecure. But the more you get to know him, the more he opens up. He’ll show you something new around the small town, like the library or his favourite spot in the large forest surrounding it. 

It’s not far from his house, he tells you, as you step into the clearing, trees tall above your heads. The leaves are still mostly green but they are starting to shift in colour. You can tell why Remus likes it; it’s something about the trees, they encircle you perfectly, leaving just enough room in the middle for the sunlight to weasel its way down to the forest floor, warming it up. Several of the trees are also perfect for climbing; their branches low and thick enough, so that’s what you do. 

You climb up into the tree and Remus tells you about his parents and you tell him about yours, and how both of you have always wanted siblings. You talk about your favourite books, and Remus asks you about the life outside this small town. The birds are chirping and it’s calm and still and the sunlight is comfortably warm as it falls on your faces and grey wool jumpers, part of the school uniform. All is good. 

During school, you sit in your corner of the yard, sometimes deep in discussion and sometimes quietly people watching. Remus, who’s lived here all of his eight years of life, tells you embarrassing stories about the other kids — like when Robert, the boy with the crooked teeth, got stuck in one of the swings and firemen had to come to the school to get him out, or when Diane tripped and spilled her lunch all over herself at the end of last school year — and you snicker, turning your eyes to the person in question who more often that not glared back, with maybe just a hint of insecurity flickering through their eyes. 

Remus is by no means mean, but he’s observant and the way he tells you about all the stuff he’s seen — embarrassing moments, unusual behaviour and things alike — is funny. He’s a good narrator and the way he so blatantly points stuff out sometimes, is amusing enough to make you laugh out loud. It makes you feel that you know your peers much better than you actually do, having gone to the school for just over two weeks now. 

One day he asks if you want to come over after school and you nod yes, excited to meet Hope and… Lyall? You’re quite sure, remembering that Remus's father's name is just as unusual as Remus's himself. 

That afternoon you stand, shoulder to shoulder, outside a small cottage by the forest. It’s beautiful, you think — especially with the deep green ivy twirling its way up the facade — it looks like something out of the fairytales your mum used to tell you when you were a little younger. Much more cosy than your own home closer to the incredibly small town centre.

”It looks so nice,” you beam to Remus; the boy is so grateful and humble that you’ve already found a hobby in complementing him as often as you can. 

Or at least making sure that you don’t keep thoughts like these to yourself, but to tell Remus that his home is, although small, very nice. He needs to hear it, you decide. 

Remus smiles shyly, glancing down for a moment, fringe falling down into his eyes. ”Thank you.”

Then he walks up the door and you trail behind, anticipation coursing through your body, excited to meet the famous Mr and Mrs Lupin. 

You enter the house, and a soft female voice calls out, asking for her son. Remus softly confirms that it’s him and then turns to you. 

”That’s my mum,” he explains.

You scoff softly. ”I figured.”

Remus rolls his eyes at you, although he looks amused. You gape; he hasn’t done that before and then you begin laughing, shoving him a little with your shoulder to his.

”Oh, hello there,” a woman appears in the hallway. 

She is thin and quite small, with dark blond hair put into a knot. She’s wearing a dress in a muted beige colour and a white apron with small, red dots scattered over it, that she currently is untying, pulling it off her. Gathering it in one hand, she then reaches out her other, you take it and she introduces herself as Remus's mother, and tells you to call her Hope rather than Mrs Lupin. She’s just as soft-spoken as she looks and there’s a warmth to her that you immediately like. 

”We’ve heard so much about you, love,” Hope smiles gently, looking between Remus and you. 

You look over at Remus with a large grin and he looks flustered, looking anywhere but at you or his mum. 

”And I have heard lots of good stuff about you too,” you reply politely, and content fills you up from your toes to your head when Hope’s smile turns brighter. 

”I was just making cookies,” Hope states then, reaching for her apron again, and you realise that she only took it off to look decent in front of you, which you find endearing even as you want to somehow tell her that it isn’t at all necessary although it’s already said and done. ”Do you want some?”

”Yeah, mum, that would be delicious,” Remus replies softly, and it’s definitely from his mother that he’s got that softness from. 

”Yes, please. Thank you,” you say at the same time, smiling at her. 

Hope smiles again. ”Well, then, I’ll bring them up to you when they’re done.”

You thank her again, and then Remus starts moving further into the house, pointing out the different rooms. It’s small and the hallway narrow, but still you find it much nicer than your own home, that still feels foreign and weird and not at all like a home, having just moved there. This house is clearly older and it looks like someone has lived in it, just as it should. You follow your friend up a quite steep staircase in dark wood that curves in on itself as it stretches onto the second floor. It’s two doors here; one with Remus's name spelled out in colourful letters on it, and one plain, that must be Mr Lupin and Hope’s room, since you haven’t seen any other room that could inhabit their beds. 

Remus's room isn’t what you expected. For some reason, you had expected it to be quite neat, but it is an absolute and complete mess. There’s books, just about everywhere. Most of the collection isn’t in the bookshelf but rather spread out in stacks on the floor, the desk, the windowsill and just in a random corner. There’s notepads with scribbles and drawings on them. Clothes on the floor. Plants here and there, in varying degrees of aliveness; although most of them are green, you’ll give him that. And on top of that there’s just a whole lot of things, decorations and wooden figures and toys and what not. 

”What happened in here?” you ask, before you can stop yourself and then when you see Remus's face your face splits into another mischievous grin. 

”Excuse you,” he mutters, frowning a bit, but even when only knowing him for a couple of weeks, you’ve already learned that Remus isn’t immune to your smiles and his frown eases up fairly quickly. ”It’s an _organised_ mess.”

”Oh, really?” you question innocently. ”Why are you wearing odd socks when the other of that white pair is lying over there, and the other beige one is over there?” 

You point firstly to the bed under which a white sock lies forgotten and then at the beige one that’s behind the door. 

Remus narrows his eyes at you. ”Perhaps to annoy you.”

You laugh. ”Well, I’m quite unannoyable.”

”That’s a word that you’ve made up.”

”All words are made up.”

”You have a point,” Remus gives in and now he can’t help but laugh too. 

You step farther into the room, leaving your spot by the doorway next to the owner of it, and inspect the things on the shelves. There’s photos of a toddler of a younger Remus and Hope and a man that must be Mr Lupin. Then there’s a small, old-looking globe showing the wide continents of the world and the deep oceans and then next to it is a deck of cards. The cards look very nice; much prettier than any usual deck. Instead of some boring red and white or perhaps blue and white pattern on the back, it’s a deep blue with golden stars that almost look like they’re twinkling. 

”This is pretty,” you state, as you reach out for it, but quickly Remus is there, snatching them before your eyes, clutching them close to his chest. 

You give him a questioning look, almost a little embarrassed because apparently you were not supposed to touch that. Remus looks a little embarrassed too. 

”What was that?” you ask quietly.

”I—uh it’s…” he opens and closes his mouth, before he seems to gather himself and pull out one of the drawers of the desk and throw the cards inside, before hastily closing it again. ”It’s… private.”

You nod slowly, because you don’t question something that’s private, that’s what your mum told you. ”Okay.”

Remus looks quite uncomfortable, looking down at his mismatching socks before there’s a knock on the doorframe. You both turn around, a little startled, and stare at the man by the entrance to the room. He gives a somewhat nervous chuckle. 

”Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says in a deep voice. Mr Lupin, you guess.

He’s tall; it’s the first thing that you notice, as you tip your head backwards to look up at him, briefly wondering if Remus is going to be that tall too one day. You can’t imagine it; Remus is smaller than most boys in your year, a little shorter than you even. He looks tired — probably just home from work — and he’s wearing a rust coloured suit that looks a little worn but comfortable. His hair is brown — placing Remus's hair colour just between Hope’s and Mr Lupin’s — hairline just beginning to travel up his head, and his eyes are the same hazel colour as his son’s; the one that always has appeared almost golden to you. 

He sends you a somewhat tired, but warm, smile and steps forward, reaching out a humongous hand and you shake it, your small hand completely enveloped in his. 

”It is very nice to meet you, at last,” he smiles down at you and in the corner of your eye you see Remus smiling too. Then he looks around the room, chuckling. ”Oh, Remus, couldn’t you’ve cleaned a little before having guests over?”

Remus sighs. ”But it’s so boring. _So hard.”_

”It’s okay Mr Lupin, I don’t mind,” you chime in. 

Mr Lupin turns his golden eyes to you. There’s something about him that’s different from Hope but you can’t but your finger on it.

”Call me Lyall,” he says. ”And that’s very nice of you, considering the state of this place. It looks like a bomb went off in here. Perhaps a tornado.”

”That’s a cool name,” you comment before you can stop yourself. ”Just like Remus.”

You look over at Remus and he blushes, looking down at his feet again but for a nicer reason than last time. 

”Thank you,” Lyall nods — bows, almost — before smiling at Remus. Then he straightens up a bit, and you realise you hadn’t even noticed that he’d bent down. ”I should leave you two alone.”

He nods to you again, his warm eyes underlining that it was nice to meet you, and then he turns on his heels and strides out of the room. You and Remus look at each other, about to begin talking when Lyall’s deep voice floats into the room again. 

”I almost forgot.” 

He appears again, now with a plate of freshly baked cookies. You briefly wonder where he had put them to return with them so fast, and how you hadn’t felt the delicious scent of them, because now it smells so good that you forget both of those things, hungrily eyeing the cookies instead. 

”Hope told me to bring these to you,” he explains, but neither his son or you are listening too closely. 

He smiles again, and discreetly disappears out the room. 

The following couple of hours are spent discussing books, whether or not ghosts are real, what places to visit once you’re adults — the Great Wall of China and Machu Picchu, for example — and completely suppressing the fact that you have homework to do. You eat so much biscuits that your stomach eventually starts hurting a bit and you reluctantly put the biscuit you were about to put in your mouth down. Remus eats it instead; that boy seems to have no limits when it comes to food. 

Eventually your floppy-haired friend starts to look tired, so much so that even you notice. It’s in the way that he’s sort of sunken down on his bed, almost into a lying position, and the way his voice is quieter. You almost tell him that he’s looking very tired, but you stop yourself when your mind travels to that one time you told your dad’s colleague that he looked very tired and your dad had to pull you away to explain that Mr Johnson wasn’t tired, he was just over 60 years old. 

Of course Remus isn’t that old, but maybe there’s another reason for all of this still, and you don’t want to accidentally offend anyone, so you declare that maybe it’s time for you to go home.

Remus's head snaps up at that, and he looks a little disappointed. 

”I’m sorry I—” he trails off, seemingly not knowing what to say. ”I’m sorry if I was boring… I was just… I mean you don’t have to leave.”

”It’s all right,” you assure him as you stand up from sitting on his bed, looking down at him. ”It’s not you, I just realised that the clock is a lot and if I’m late my mum will think I’ve gotten abducted and murdered.”

You say that last part with such drama, making your eyes go round, that Remus visibly relaxes, looking somewhat amused. 

”Thank you for coming,” Remus says instead of questioning your intention for leaving further.

”I’d love to come back,” you reply hopefully and smile as Remus nods profusely. ”It’s been fun.”

You reach for your rucksack that you placed by the door upon entering Remus's room, putting it on. 

”Bye Remus,” you call out softly, as you stand by the door, ready to go. ”I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He murmurs something in response — by the looks of it he’s already fallen asleep — and you deem that that’s good enough, and whirl around to head back down the steep stairs. 

You make sure to thank Hope for the cookies and then say goodbye to both her and her husband. Just before you close the door behind you, you hear Remus's mum comment something about how polite that girl was and you smile to yourself as you close the door as quietly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The image featured is not mine! Here is the link to where I found it: https://www.pinterest.se/pin/748582769302012983/
> 
> I also may or may not have made an playlist for this story. Maybe it's too early to introduce it already but basically it's the songs I listen to a lot while writing and have come to associate (some songs more than others) with this story, so if you want to check it out then here's a link:  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLfsRHQnf6infXvMf3hk-gpTuFbgcHpAsV  
> On this playlist is the song that inspired the title of this fic; Crosses by Jose González. It's fantastic.


	3. Remus is Nowhere to be Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus doesn't show up to school one day.
> 
> And not the next one either.

The following day instantly turns bad once you realise with great disappointment that Remus isn’t at school. Hoping until the last minute before the lesson start that he’ll drop inside, you already know that he isn’t coming because Remus is never late, not to the classes you have together, at least. 

A spark of worry clenches your chest as you hope that he isn’t very sick. He looked tired yesterday, you remind yourself. 

You don’t pay much attention that lesson. 

During lunch you keep mostly to yourself, kicking rocks over the asphalt. You suppose that you could turn to Diane and Julie and the rest, in hopes that it isn’t too late to be somewhat friends at least, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Just being alone seems less dreadful. Instead, you walk along the fence, absentmindedly dragging your fingertips along it. 

After who knows how long, you stop and look out to the rest of the kids and teachers, realising that you’re out of view for most of them. Looking back into the welcoming forest, you don’t think and climb over the fence, disappearing into it. 

The forest is nicer than the school yard. Calmer, as always, away from the screaming boys and girls. You haven’t lived here for that long, but you’ve formed a vague idea of what direct Remus's favourite spot of the forest is located from here. It’s tempting to try and find it — especially knowing that it’s close to Remus's home — but you decide that it’s a bad idea; you’ll probably just get lost. So you stay closer, but still you barely make it back in time for your next lesson. 

Arriving at home, feeling more agitated than in a while, you ask your mum what she thinks. With a kiss on top of your hair she assures you that it’s probably just a cold, and you feel a little more calm after that.

Only, Remus isn’t at school the following day either. If it’s just a cold, shouldn’t you have gotten sick too, having spent all day with him? After lunch - spent in the forest again - you’ve had enough and stomp into the classroom to ask your teacher if she knows where Remus is. 

”I’m sorry but I don’t,” your teacher, Ms Thatcher, replies as she collects loose sheets of paper in her hands, absentmindedly tapping the short side of them against the desktop so that they align perfectly before she puts them down again, in a nice stack.

”But haven’t you heard from him?” you press, eyeing her movements — she’s stapling the papers together now — wishing she would just slow down and concentrate on you. 

”Not me directly but…” she pauses and looks up at you, at last, and sees the stubborn expression your face is set into. 

”I’m his best friend,” you insist, nailing her gaze with your own. ”You can tell me.”

You know there’s something she’s not telling you.

A small smile curves her lipstick-painted lips, probably finding your dedication sweet. But this isn’t sweet, it’s bloody serious and you know you shouldn’t use words like bloody but your dad does when things are shitty so you could too right? 

Then Ms Thatcher sighs. 

”Remus is sick often,” she tells you, sitting down in the chair behind her desk. You come closer, stopping before it. Behind her the world map is nailed up, and it’s always there, but right now it reminds you of the globe on Remus's shelf. ”Every month, I would say, he misses a few days of school. I don’t why that is, no one has told me and I can’t figure out a reason why. I worry sometimes, but when the boy returns, he looks well enough; it’s kept me from going further into investigating it all, knowing that can’t be too severe.”

The fact that it isn’t too severe doesn’t calm your nerves. Upon finding out that Remus is sick often, your heart begins hammering against your ribcage. It continues to do so, at you try to manage to give your teacher a polite nod and smile, saying thank you, before you whirl around and dart out of the empty classroom. It’s easier to breathe, more distractions outside and you escape Ms Thatcher’s concerned glance. 

The following lesson is characterised by lack of concentration as your mind conjures up images of Remus being severely sick. No matter how hard you concentrate on the numbers before you in your book, you can't shake the uncomfortable feeling pooling in your stomach, making you twist in your chair, your hand that grips your pencil clammy.

Soon, you’re biking away from the school building under a sky filled with threateningly dark clouds that you don’t even see because oh god, what if Remus dies? He couldn't, could he? But of course he could, lots of kids had died from being sick over the years. 

Instead of going home, you take a right instead of a left in a crossing, and bike to Remus's house. Your mother is probably going to get worried, but then again, at Remus's house is the most probable place for you to be if not at school or home. 

The bike ride feels both long and short, but eventually you reach the Lupin’s cottage. Carefully, you lean your bike against the grey stone wall, not bothering to lock it because you’re currently outside a small town that lies in the region of the-middle-of-nowhere, Wales, to begin with.

Hurrying to the door, you knock a bit frantically, ignoring the way your thigh muscles protest. The seconds of nothingness seem to drag on for two eternities - you barely hear the rustling of the trees in the wind that's picking up over the way you hear your own heart pounding in your ears - but eventually the door opens, creaking as it does. Lyall peaks his head out hesitantly but a small smile makes its way onto his face when he lies his hazel — golden — eyes on your short form. 

”Hello there,” he says kindly, but doesn’t open the door wider, but keeps it just slightly ajar and warns bells ring furiously inside you, your heart impossibly hammering harder and faster inside your chest.

He smiles, but you’re sure that he doesn’t look as happy as the last time you saw him. He’d looked tired then, but that had nothing on his aura now — heavy bags underneath his eyes — and on top of this, he looks concerned, even though he tries to hide it. 

”Can I see Remus?” you croak out, too stressed for formalities and politeness now. You hold his gaze with determination, not once looking away. This is serious.

Mr Lupin’s face twists a little as if he’s about to give in, like he wants to, but he eventually shakes his head. ”I’m afraid now is not a good time.” 

”Please?” you ask, voice wobbly, your facade slowly crumbling. 

But Lyall shakes his head again and it really looks like it does pain him. ”I’m sorry.”

”I-is he really sick? Like is he going to die?” you question then, bluntly, your worries clawing their way up from your heart to your throat and out your mouth. The ground seems to sway a little underneath you and the only thing you can think of is Remus being very ill. ”No one will tell me anything but he is my best friend and I can’t—”

You ramble, not exactly knowing what you’re saying and neither can you hear Lyall calling your name, trying to calm you down. It’s too much and you’re tugging on your own hair in an attempt to make yourself concentrate and stay calm but it doesn’t work until there’s a large slam and _crack_. You blink, freezing as you stop your movements, your whimpering, your everything and _stare_. 

Lyall Lupin stares too, at the door that he just held securely in his large hand. Now it’s open fully, still swaying a little, the wood cracked from the harsh impact on the grey stone. 

Then you stare at each other, you in teary-eyed confusion and Lyall in something that looks like... realisation. But you’re standing a metre and a half away from it and the man hadn’t just slammed it against his own wall, not when he was trying to keep you from entering. And you doubt that he would be able to slam it so hard that it actually broke. 

You open your mouth to say something but no sound comes out, not even a whimper. You can’t excuse yourself, you can’t ask what just happened. It's like your throat is entirely closed.

Your heartbeat is whooshing in your ears again. 

A moment passes and it feels like a third eternity before Lyall steps aside and gestures inside the cottage. ”Come inside.”

You don’t hesitate, just hastily nod and thankfully, your legs still work so you dart inside, slightly ducking under Lyall’s outstretched arm. You head straight for the stairs, hurrying upstairs only to pause outside of Remus's closed door, catching your breath and trying to calm your heaving chest. 

You hear Lyall and Hope talking downstairs — it’s a small building — but you can’t hear anything except that it’s in the form of excited, hushed whispers. 

For a moment you’re a little scared of going inside because what if you’re confronted with exactly what you’re scared of, but your desire to see your friend is stronger, and you grab the handle and push the door open.

Remus is lying in his bed, buried underneath fluffy covers and his head and upper back supported by soft pillows. He’s pale and still but he’s alive and completely oblivious to your presence; you can tell by the soft snores. 

You instantly let out a breath that you don’t know for how long you’ve been keeping, and your legs and body don’t feel quite as heavy as you put your rucksack down in the same spot it had rested a couple of days ago, and begin to move closer to Remus. 

Besides being very pale, he has bags under his eyes just like Lyall — and Hope too, probably — and there’s bandages over his face and arms. You don’t know what worries you more, but you’re no longer concerned that Remus will die and the weight that’s been wrapped around your chest eases. Reaching his bedside, you slowly lift the covers and slip in underneath them, next to Remus, not caring at all that you’re wearing full on school uniform and the wool in your pullover will probably make you really warm. 

Remus is lying on his back, and you balance your body on your side, tucking your hands up underneath your head as you rest it on them, so that you can watch over Remus. Maybe it’s a little excessive and weird, but at least this way you can easily see whether or not he is breathing. 

A smattering sound brings your attention to the window and you see heavy raindrops hitting it with rapidly increasing frequency. It’s a calming noise and you feel some of your stress wash away with it.

You still can’t wrap your head around it. Turning what happened with the door over in your head, you can’t come up with a reasonable explanation, except that Mr Lupin must’ve accidentally pushed it open too hard. Maybe his head was spinning too and his heart hammering like yours. It must be.

Listening to the rain and occasional thunder and feeling how exhausted your body has become, you begin to slip into slumber. However, Lyall’s look of surprise still haunts your mind as you do.

You wake up to a tickling sensation on the bridge and tip of your nose, and your eyes flicker open to the sight of Remus looking at you and withdrawing his hand from your face, the covers making a rustling sound as they do. 

”I thought you’d never wake up,” Remus whispers softly, a crooked half-smile on his marred face. 

”I thought the same about you,” you murmur in return, bringing your hands up to rub your eyes. 

Before you can exchange any more words, there’s a knock on the doorframe. You have your back to the door, but Remus gingerly cranes his neck to look.

”Dad? Mum?” he utters in surprise once he sees his parents walking in, arms hooked together and unreadable expressions on their faces. ”What’s happening?”

”Remus,” Lyall begins, looking between you and Remus as he and Hope come to a stop about a metre away from the bedside. He looks like he tries to be both solemn yet casual and Hope's small smile portrays mixed emotions. ”I think your friend here just performed accidental magic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends!
> 
> Not entirely unexpected I would say, but somehow it must be revealed lol.
> 
> Either way, I'm sorry that it's been a long time but things have been very stressful lately. I've been a mentor for new students at university while also studying full time and also working part time so I haven't had a lot of time to write. Luckily I've already written a huge chunk of this story which comes in handy now.
> 
> Also, shout out to the one person subscribed to this sorry, thank you very much!!


	4. You're a Witch, Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ”What are you talking about?” you chime in, dragging all three gazes to you.
> 
> ”Accidental magic,” Lyall repeats himself, as if it makes any sense. ”It seems that you are a witch.”

__

_Accidental magic._

You blink, unsure if Lyall actually said what you thought he had. Why is an adult speaking of things like magic? And with such a serious expression too? You stare at him, looking him over, searching for signs that he’s either playing you a prank, or that you’re hallucinating it all. 

Remus's eyes instantly go wide as saucers, and when you look at him, you just frown. 

”Are you sure?” he questions under his breath and Lyall nods slowly.

”Quite so.”

”What are you talking about?” you chime in, dragging all three gazes to you, which makes you squirm a little under the covers of the bed.

It bothers you that Lyall is so calm — not screaming in surprise or confusion, walking around in circles like you thought one would do it they saw magic happen — but at the same time, it’s very welcome that he isn’t freaking out. Because if Lyall, an adult, lost it, then you’d surely be even more stressed than you are now. 

”Accidental magic,” Lyall repeats himself, as if it makes any sense. ”It seems that you are a witch.”

”But—” you manage to force out before you lose your voice, and end up just opening and closing your mouth over and over. Hope moves to sit down on the edge of the bed and begins to gently run her hand over your hair. Lyall grabs the Windsor chair that’s placed by Remus's desk and places it in front of the bed instead, sitting down. It creaks a little. ”B-but witches and magic… they only exist in fairytales.”

Lyall smiles softly and Remus shifts in the bed beside you. The man reaches for one of the many books on the floor, bringing it up to his lap. Meanwhile you stare at him as if he’s just told you that the Earth is really in the shape of a cube and the globe on Remus's shelf is wrong. Your heart pounds in your chest again, and you dare not to even breathe as you watch Mr Lupin’s movements. Remus and Hope seem far away as you watch Lyall reach into the inner pocket of his worn blazer, bringing out an actual _wand_. Your round eyes instantly attach themselves to it; it looks just like the ones the three fairies have in _Sleeping Beauty_ , only darker in colour. With a last glance at you, he turns his attention to the book, pointing the tip of the wand towards it, muttering something underneath his breath, and you watch as the book transforms into a bouquet of flowers, not for a second believing your eyes.

Except you sort of do. How else would you explain _that?_ And Lyall doesn’t seem like a mad man and Remus and Hope obviously believe it… _and_ this is all too much. You cover your eyes with your clammy, cold hands and sink further into the bed, a low whine coming from the back of your throat escaping your mouth. 

Remus's hand is there on your shoulder, squeezing it, as you take a moment to breathe. The conversation quietly goes on around you, and somehow it all feels just as overwhelming, with sight stripped away; the words just seem stronger, more intense. 

”What happened?” Remus murmurs. His tone sounds focused, serious and mature beyond his years.

”I think the only accidental magic she performed was forcing the door open — and don’t get me wrong, I was decidedly impressed — but that thunderstorm outside also has peculiar timing.” 

Your eyes shoot open and you glance to the window. It’s almost dark outside, as if it would’ve already been evening. The tracks the raindrops leave behind as they roll down the glass are so many that they sort of just turn into one big one, like a waterfall. The raindrops pounding on the roof is a constant, low murmur in the background. 

The way he says it makes you feel like he doesn’t entirely believe that you might actually have caused a full on thunderstorm but he enhances the possibility of it with a certain glimpse in his golden eyes; maybe to entertain both your great imagination and his son’s. It seems to work because you feel a tickling sensation in your stomach, that you can only compare to that one time you and your dad rode a rollercoaster when on holiday. Meanwhile, Remus gapes, eyes sparkling excitedly. 

You look at Remus and his mouth stretches into a wide smile that looks like it would painfully tug at the bandages on his face and the wounds underneath. You can’t bring yourself to smile just yet but Remus's expression makes your heart flutter inside your chest.

Lyall turns his wand back to the beautiful bouquet of flowers — it even smells nice — and it transforms back into _Oliver Twist_ by Charles Dickens. Then he puts it back where he found it, as well as his wand, and turns his eyes back to you, clasping his hands together in his lap as if he’s waiting to answer any questions that you might have. 

”But if you—” you move your gaze from Lyall up to Hope, but the woman shakes her head. 

”Not me,” Hope says with a gentle smile and points to her son. ”But him.”

You look back at Remus and his smile grows impossibly wider. 

”It’s true,” Remus says, nodding excitedly. He looks considerably more awake than he did both two days ago and just when you arrived. 

”But what if it was just one time?” you ask worriedly, looking back at Lyall. 

”It’ll happen again,” Lyall says reassuringly. ”It’s just happened for Remus three times so far. But it’ll come more and more often and when you’re old enough, you will be able to get your own wand and learn spells which makes it all much easier.”

And at that, you can’t keep the smile off your face anymore. It’s just too exciting. You’ve always had a vivid imagination and a love for adventures, but even you couldn’t wholeheartedly believe that witches and magic were real. 

But now it is.

And when you smile, the entirety of the small family do too, and your heart flutters in your chest once more, this time with adoration towards them and excitement for your new life, that’s apparently just begun.

”Lyall and Hope?” you speak up after a moment, and both of them look back at you from smiling at each other. 

”Yes, love?” Hope replies, voice soft and expression on her face that’s somewhere in-between curious and worried, mostly because you have a feeling that she’s always a little worried.

”I’m sorry I broke your door,” you apologise, feeling your cheeks heat up as you do, but before you can dwell in your own embarrassment and shame, Lyall chuckles. 

You dare to look at them and see that Hope is smiling too. 

”It’s all right,” Lyall replies then, his laughter reducing to a wide smile. ”In fact, I’ve already fixed it.”

The glimpse in his eyes tell you that he used exactly what you think he did to do so. 

The rest of that afternoon is filled with Remus roaming around his small room, pulling out different books and candies and contraptions out of his many boxes and draws. Apparently they’re all magical and he’s hidden them from you since he thought you were a muggle — a person without magic, that is, as you’ve just learned — but now he excitedly explains what everything is. It’s far too much for you to remember but the fact that the deck of cards wasn't a usual deck, but an exploding snap one, you do recall. Apparently the images move and when you play they occasionally explode which is why you couldn’t touch or look at them, since they are so clearly magical. 

You’re excited too and listen to him from where you're sitting on top of his bed, with an awestruck grin on your face. However, your attention is divided because you can’t keep your thoughts away from how feeble Remus looks, worry pooling in your stomach. And you still don’t know what’s wrong with him, what happened. 

Eventually Remus seems to give in to the fact that he is exhausted and crawls back into bed, leaning back against the headboard next to you. There’s a silence filling the room that you don’t mind, but Remus is fiddling with his hands, tugging at his cuticles in a manner that looks painful. 

”I should probably tell you what happened to me,” Remus finally speaks up, voice sounding choked. 

It’s clearly a touchy subject.

”You don’t have to,” you try but Remus shakes his head, wavy fringe flopping down into his eyes. 

”I don’t want to drag it on for longer,” he replies and you think that is brave. 

”Does this thing have anything to do with magic?” you ask tentatively, going wholly off your gut feeling. 

That is what you do; you don’t overthink things and go fully after your intuition, and so you ask before you’ve even thought it over. 

Mostly it works out. 

But Remus nods again, so apparently you were right. 

”Yeah,” Remus huffs, inspecting his hands closely; he can’t look at you.

The rain isn't as forceful anymore, and the thunder has drifted off into the distance. It means that it’s much quieter in the room now. 

”It’s alright,” you murmur softly.

”You don't know what happened yet,” Remus points out, finally dragging his eyes towards you. ”You don’t know what I am.”

”You’re a wizard,” you smile and Remus can’t stop the corners of his mouth from curling upwards for a second. ”And besides that, I promise I won’t think you’re weird. It’ll be fine.”

Remus sighs softly, nodding again, but not looking entirely convinced. You start to really worry again, because it seems to be something bad. 

”I’m something else too,” he says before he drags in a deep breath, glancing down to his hands again. ”A werewolf.”

You can’t help but to be taken back.

”Those are real too?” you dumbly ask under your breath before you manage to collect yourself, but then you desperately try to remain cool and keep your eyes from going wide, but your mouth feels dry. 

Somehow finding out that your best friend is a werewolf is worse than finding out that he’s a wizard. Both of which you didn’t believe existed this morning when you got up, hoping that Remus would be back in school. 

However magic and witches and wizards are exciting and awesome. Werewolves are scary and nothing you associate with good things. It’s darkness and full moons and they hunt humans, _right?_

But worst of it all is the way Remus hangs his head, now squeezing his hands together into fists to the point that his knuckles turn white. He no longer looks happy and thrilled, but very much ashamed. 

You’re unsure as to how you're going to make it better, which is perhaps the worst feeling there is out there. Is the worst one that you know, at least. 

Remus nods finally, but doesn’t answer. 

”I-Is that why you’re… sick? From the full moon?” you ask tentatively, very worried about accidentally making him more distressed.

You’re not sure if you should reach out for Remus or not, but the boy seems to have closed in on himself, pulling his knees up to his chest. 

Remus nods again. ”Yes, it makes me tired. And… and sometimes a-angry, the days before.”

You nod too, vaguely recalling how Diane had told you how Remus sometimes was really angry. 

”But the transformation is the worst,” Remus states and then goes into an explanation of it all; how it happens and what it’s like and the entire time you listen without interrupting. 

You realise that he’s probably never told anyone this before — not any other kids at least — so you don’t want to make it harder by asking questions. Besides, you’re far too concentrated on staying strong and being calm and positive and to not scrunch your nose up — not out of disgust but out of sympathy and badly concealed horror when he explains how his bones snap and skin stretches — although you don’t succeed very well. 

Because when Remus's voice becomes strained, you crack entirely and your eyes start stinging; promptly sending tears rolling down your cheeks. Remus looks up at you, and his eyes are glossy too and then you both reach for each other at the same time, him hugging you as tightly as he has energy for and you hugging him as tightly as you dare to. 

”I’m sorry,” you whisper and he shakes his head into your shoulder.

”’S not your fault,” he murmurs back. 

And you just hold each other for several moments, just in silence. It’s stopped raining now too, and a stray ray of sunshine makes its way into the room. 

”Can I ask you something?” Remus asks you after who-knows-how-long of quietness. 

”You just did,” you reply, smirking a little to yourself, chin still placed on Remus's shoulder. 

”That is a terrible joke,” Remus comments indignantly, before sniffing a bit, nose runny from crying. 

”’S not!” you protest, but then your smirk fades somewhat into a soft smile. ”Ask me.”

”Okay,” Remus replies quietly, breathing in deeply, just like he did the last time he was about to tell you something that was scary to share. Although this is a question instead of a statement, he's still scared of your reaction. ”What did you think my scars came from?”

That’s when you finally let Remus go, leaning back so that you can see his face. Of course you’ve noticed his scars; wondered about them for a fleeting moment until something else distracted you. Just now when he mentioned them, you realised that you can’t even recall exactly how they look; in what angle they’re tilted, and where on his face they sit, so you lean back and run your gaze over his features, making sure to actually pay attention to them this time. Obviously they’re more distinct now that there’s more of them, fresh ones, although somewhat hidden under bandages. 

”I didn’t really think much at all of them,” you confess and Remus just stares at you, a slight crease between his eyebrows as he gives you a sceptic look.

”What do you mean?”

”I barely noticed them,” you reply honestly, shrugging. 

”But how?” Remus blurts, his goldenly hazel eyes wide. ”They’re everywhere.”

You take a deep breath, before launching yourself into an explanation.

”Just… you’re _you_. We talk about fun stuff and do fun things together and you are fun to be around and that just… distracted me from them, I guess,” you explain and Remus just blinks and you struggle to come up with another answer that makes more sense. ”You have freckles too. They hide them, I suppose.”

Remus looks at you for a long while with an unreadable expression on his face and you twist a little under his intense, soulful glance, unsure now how he’ll react. But then he reaches out and pulls you into another hug, tighter than the one before even and you just hum contently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special talent: ✨ irregular updates ✨  
> No but I had some time to edit and write so I figured, might as well. I've just finished exam season and didn't have any shifts at work so I dove back into this story again. So much better than studying statistics for 10 hours a day. Really.
> 
> Also, the image is just there because I imagine Remus having a globe in his bedroom, probably because I love them and had one of myself when I was a kid. Loved that thing, it lit up and then you could see animals around the world, like lions in Africa and polar bears up north. Globes are just nostalgic, y'know? I really need to get myself a new one. 
> 
> Image:   
> https://www.pinterest.se/pin/748582769307896587/


	5. Letters and Less Fun Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And just like that, it's 1971 and you wake up to a strange drumming on your window.

**1971**

No matter how many times Remus has mentioned that in that wizarding world owls are the mailmen, you are still surprised when you wake up a sunny Saturday morning to such a large bird picking on your bedroom window. 

For a moment, you just stand and stare at it, trying to register that it’s finally happening, it’s finally time, but then it impatiently drums its beak into the glass again and you manage to get your feet to move, hurriedly skipping over to the window and opening it. 

Fresh morning air wells into your room, wind tugging a bit on your curtains as it does. Your hand is somewhat shaky as you reach out towards the enormous bird that sits on the windowsill, but it politely drops the letter into your hand.

”Thank you,” you smile, and the owl nods as if it could understand you and launches itself off the windowsill, flying away, soaring through the sky. 

It heads in the direction of Remus’s house, you notice, and you wonder if it’s going to deliver his letter now. 

You look down to the street, wondering if anyone saw it, but it seems to be too early for anyone to be out and about yet. Then you close the window, backing away from it. 

You look down at the letter. It looks innocent enough; your name and address spelt out in neat handwriting. There’s nothing really that would suggest that it came from a magical school far up in the Scottish highlands. It’s only because you know, because _finally_ , it’s the summer after you’ve turned eleven. 

You tear it open and read it.

And re-read it, only to re-read it again. Then you dart downstairs, nearly tripping, to tell your parents. Of course they already know, about your magic and Hogwarts and all of it — Lyall had kindly and patiently explained everything when you had decided that it was time — but it’s still exciting to show them the actual letter. It makes it feel much more real. 

An hour later — your mother made you wait until at least nine in the morning before leaving the house, so you spent half of it lying on your bed, clutching the letter to your chest — you’re biking in record speed towards your best friend’s house. By the only big crossing in the small town, you’re nearly hit by a car — yes, you should probably have looked more carefully before hurling yourself out into the road — and you shout apologies over your shoulder at the driver that forced the car to a stop with screeching tires. You should probably have slowed down, but you can’t bring yourself to do it; your excited and happy heart doing somersaults in your head. 

Steering your bike into the field that marks two-thirds of the way to Remus's house, you see another figure appearing from the forest at the other end of it, also recklessly pedalling, but hey, at least there’s no cars here. 

He shouts your name and it echoes over the open space, the sound disappearing into the forest. You shout his in return, forcing yourself to go even faster.

There’s a small path going through the tall grass and flowers and that’s where you meet in the middle, practically throwing your bikes to the ground.

”Did you get your letter?” you exclaim, eyes wide and face already cracking into a grin, because of course he did. 

”Yeah!” he exclaims, bringing it out of his pocket — it’s already crinkled — and you let out an excited squeal, and you jump into each other's arms, spinning around in endless circles until you're both too dizzy to remain standing and lie down on your backs in the flowers. 

You’re not the only one that has had doubts about receiving a letter, worried without really having to be. You worried about not being magical enough to go, no matter how many times Lyall told you that most kids don’t perform magic many times before getting a wand and learning the spells, and Remus has been worrying about his condition, despite the fact that the headmaster of the school personally contacted Lyall and Hope, promising that Remus would in fact still have a reserved place at Hogwarts. 

Now, knowing that both of you are going for sure — each of you having a physical letter to ease your worry — the atmosphere is euphoric. It doesn’t at all feel like you’re lying on the ground; soaring high through the warming summer air — doing loops — would be more like it.

The summer passes fast and soon it’s late August when you make your way towards Remus's house as you regularly do. Of course, you spend a lot of time at your place, in the forest and just around town too, but yesterday night it was the full moon and Remus is too tired to leave his house. 

You’ve been wanting to figure out a way to help Remus during these times but it’s hard. Remus thinks you should stop, and so you stop bringing it up, but it’s always in the back of your mind. However, with no knowledge of magic really, except for performing accidental one every now and then, there’s not much you can do, but you still have hope that you’ll figure something out after some time at Hogwarts. 

So you do as you always do once a month; bike to his family’s cottage early the morning after, bringing chocolate with you. You park your bike outside of their home, leaning it against the stone wall covered in deep green ivy. You knock, but enter before anyone comes to open it because it’s quite early in the morning and Remus's parents know that it’s you; because of the time and because of the protection that surrounds the cottage. You didn’t know it before you found out you were a witch, but they have wards around their home, only open to muggles and specific, approved witches and wizards. You could freely pass through them before you showed any signs of magic, and after that, Lyall adjusted them to include you. It feels a bit foreign to you, to have such an extensive security system, but considering Remus's story — how he got bitten — it makes all the sense and more. 

You enter, as always, greeting Lyall and Hope with a ’good morning’ before heading upstairs to Remus's room. You knock on his door as well but he’s always asleep and you lie down on the bed next to him, putting down the chocolate on his bedside table and more often than not you drift off to sleep too. Because in reality, you really despise mornings. You just get up for Remus. 

Well, it started out as you wanting to be there for your friend, and now you just move on autopilot, driven by the routine rather than the intense worry for your friend. Of course, you still care for him just as much, it’s just much less dramatic now. Of course, Remus is still hurting and it’s still horrible but the simplicity of the routine, like clockwork, makes it easier to deal with. It’s the way Remus likes it best too, to not make such a deal about it. Because if you think about it too much, you’ll sit here and cry together each month like you did that afternoon when you found out about it all. 

After the second start of the day — that’s what it feels like, waking up once more that morning, just in Remus's room this time, the bike ride feeling far away — you discuss Hogwarts, which makes Remus appear not as exhausted and sickly as he is, the way his eyes are gleaming with excitement. 

It’s only a week away now. You’ve both gotten your tickets. 

Once Remus is feeling better Lyall is taking you two to Diagon Alley to buy all the supplies. Initially, your parents were going to take you, but upon hearing about the spectacle that Diagon Alley is — which only made you more excited to go — they’re quite thankful that Lyall offered to take you. 

While your parents had paid for your things, you know that Remus's parents don't have as much. You decide for yourself however, that you’ll get whatever Lyall buys for Remus — it doesn’t matter if someone else has used it before, you don’t care anyway — and offer to buy ice cream or sweets or something along those lines if there’s any money left. 

”Are you still excited to get out of here?” you ask Remus suddenly, remembering how he couldn’t understand why your family would move here, that first time you ever talked to each other.

Remus shrugs, biting his lips for a moment before answering. ”I’m excited to go to Hogwarts. But I think I’ll miss it, a little bit. I’ll miss my mum and dad at least.”

”I’ll miss my parents too,” you reply, nodding in agreement. 

Your mother has already told you more times than you can count on your fingers about how much she’ll miss you when you’re gone. You always tell her that you miss her too, but you haven’t really been able to understand it until now, when your stomach twists a little at the thought of being away from your parents for so long. 

It does feel harder to leave now, than in the beginning of the summer. There isn’t much wrong with the town, really. It’s just too small. 

”And I’ll miss this town I think. I’ll at least miss our spot in the forest.”

”Me too. Maybe I’ll even miss school,” Remus replies, frowning a little bit as if he’s searching within himself for an answer regarding the school. 

”Really?” you question, surprise in your tone. 

Your mind travels to Diane and the girls and math lessons and the school yard and staring out the window from the classroom, dreaming of the future. 

Now the future is here and for the first time, you think you know what your mum means when she says that time has gone by so fast. 

”I’m not sure,” Remus replies slowly and you scoff. ”Should we go there?”

”What? To school?” you blurt, giving him a strange look. You have been completely set on never setting your foot there again. Not that you’re strongly opposed to it, you just thought you had made your last visit, a few weeks back.

”Why not? For one last time. It’ll be like a ceremony,” Remus replies and you can’t tell if he’s being so sarcastic that it almost sounds sincere. 

”A ceremony,” you echo, feeling the word out. Then you grin. ”Are we going to sing hymns too? Dress up?”

Remus rolls his eyes. ”Don’t be ridiculous.”

”I’m never ridiculous,” you reply, grinning wider. 

Remus scoffs, because he can’t help but to. 

”Are you sure that you’re up for it, then?” you ask then, looking down at his face and shoulders and arms that are covered in scratches from Remus in his werewolf form hurting himself. 

Remus sees where your eyes are travelling and his face settles into a defiant expression and you know that this won’t end any other way than you and Remus in the school yard. Remus is humble and kind and soft and smart and creative but he can also be bloody stubborn if he wants to. 

You can be stubborn too, but you can already tell that Remus is going to win this one and you know how to pick your fights. This one you let go. 

_”Yes,”_ Remus replies fiercely and you look at him for a moment, and before nodding.

”Fine,” you say. ”Ceremony at school it is then. But please spare a thought to my poor legs that are going to get us both there.”

Remus grins in a triumphant manner. ”I will.” 

20 minutes later you reach the gates of the school you used to go to after an out-of-control bike ride with you on the pedals, steering, and Remus sitting on the carrier, holding his legs up and clutching his arms around your middle, yelping as you rolled down the hills together; first on paths through the forest and then over cobblestone. 

He’s wearing a long sleeved shirt and trousers to hide most of the injuries. As for his face; it’s still relatively early and there’s still a few days left of the summer break so the school is closed and most children are keeping as far away as possible from the place. And should anyone ask, you’re telling them that Remus accidentally biked into a bush. That is also why he’s not allowed to bike by himself anymore. You think it’s rather funny to Remus's dismay, but he can’t come up with anything better, so your cover story it is. 

After a few moments of struggling to get inside — with Remus hurting he can’t climb over the gate and you aren’t strong enough to carry him over, despite his relatively small size — you find a small hole in the fence, which you pull back for Remus, stretching it so that none of the wires touch his damaged skin, before climbing in behind him. 

So now you’re sitting in your corner of the school yard, next to each other on the backrest of a bench — feet planted on the seat because, why not — looking over the space you’ve spent so many days in. 

The large brick house looks smaller than it’s even done before. More innocent. Not that you ever really hated school, but the realisation that you _aren’t_ going in there ever again makes it look less imposing. It’s not going to mean much to you from now on, it’s just another old building.

You even find it rather pretty, standing tall amongst equally tall trees. Old, in dark brick covered in ivy. 

”It’s weird isn’t it?” you ask, breaking the silence for the first time since you made it inside. 

Above you, the leaves of the large, decades old trees rustle in the wind. A few leaves come sailing down, slowly to the ground, joining others that fell before them. 

”Yeah,” Remus huffs in response. ”But I’m entirely sure now that I won’t miss it.”

You let out a laugh at that. ”Yeah… I don’t know if I will either.”

”I’m sure Hogwarts is ten thousand times better,” Remus replies, hooking his arm through yours and smiling softly.

It’s him reassuring you now you realise, and not the other way around like it typically is with you trying to curb Remus's worries. 

”That much?”

”Yes, positively,” he replies confidently and you smile back at him.

But then your smile falters and you sigh. Remus frowns. 

”Are you impersonating me?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow and you can’t help but to snicker. ”Because I’d find that mildly offensive.”

”No,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

”Then what’s wrong?” 

There’s no hiding your feelings from Remus John Lupin. Just like there’s no hiding feelings from you, at least not for him. 

”I just… This is all I’ve known and I don’t think I like it very much when things change,” you reply, shrugging. 

Diving deep into your feelings in front of others has always felt weird. But it’s probably with Remus it feels the least so; his hazel eyes that appear golden in the sunlight filtering down at your through the leaves above seem to coax it out of you. 

”Your dad is a wizard so you’ve been around it a bit at least… I have no idea what’s waiting,” you explain slowly, looking away and gazing out over the vacant school yard.

It’s almost unsettlingly quiet; the gossiping and chattering and screaming of your former school mates long gone. You haven’t told any of them that you’re not coming back after the summer, that you’re moving away, to Scotland. You briefly wonder what they’ll think. 

”We can make things change as little as they can, if you want,” Remus says, encouragingly. ”We’ll both be there to begin with. I don’t know about you but my parents, you, chocolate and books are pretty much all I care about, so.”

That earns a smile from you, but it falters quickly. ”What if we’re sorted into different houses?”

”I am 100% sure that you are going to find new friends the very first day. You’re kind and funny, so it shouldn't take long,” he goes on, looking somewhat wistfully out over the yard too. 

You turn your eyes to him, stomach twisting in protest. ”But I just want to hang out with you.”

Remus looks back at you. ”We will. Hogwarts isn’t _that_ big, and we’ll probably have lots of classes together, and we’ll study together and hang out on the weekends, of course.”

You nod slowly, that feels a little better. But you’re not finished, yet. ”You promise?”

”I promise.” 

”Promise me that we’ll be best friends forever,” you say then, lifting your chin up a little. 

A part of you is vulnerable, nervous about his answer. Worried that it’s too much to ask. The other is daring, and in fact asking for more than the reassurance that you’ll surely hang out every now and then.

Remus blinks, and then a small smile stretches his face. It looks a little painful, tugging at the new scratches, but there’s no change in his expression that indicates that it hurts. Either it doesn’t, or he’s a good actor and manages to cover it up. Maybe he doesn’t notice.

”I _promise you,_ here and now, that we are going to be best of friends, until the end of time,” he says solemnly, his golden eyes so earnest and your heart clenches almost uncomfortably with affection for Remus. 

Your _best friend_. 

You smile, an easy thing, holding out your pinky finger and he smiles back, hooking his around yours. 

Now, that’s better.

You decide to leave the school after that; the stillness and its empty windows are a bit too unsettling. It’s starting to get cold too — the wind picking up — and you’re not wearing a jumper and long trousers like Remus. He wonders if you want to go home and change, but you assure him that it’s all right. 

Instead, you head towards the forest, intending to pay it a visit too. However, the weather gods — if there are any, but sometimes it surely seems like it — have other plans; the first heavy rain drop hits your face, making you flinch, when you’re half-way there. 

It quickly turns into a full on shower; water stains colouring your clothes darker until you’re both completely soaked. Remus begs for you to bike faster, in a voice that’s something in between laughing and high-pitched screaming. A bubbling laughter makes its way from your stomach and out your mouth in response; you can barely see and hardly bike straight but you paddle as fast as you can. You pant and your thighs ache, and Remus is squeezing so tightly around your waist, trying to not fall off, but eventually, Remus's house comes into view, only somewhat hidden behind about a million heavy raindrops that together form almost a dense fog. 

Your legs are practically jelly as you stumble inside — who’s carrying who at this point is unclear — you and Remus creating a puddle on the floor in the hallway. 

Hope hears the commotion — the panting from you, Remus's snickering, the squeaky soles of your wet trainers and the door slamming shut — and appears at the end of the hallway, her eyes growing round instantly. 

”Sweet mother of Jesus,” she murmurs under her breath as she hurries forward, her skinny hands not knowing where to start and just sort of hover over you and her son. ”What were you doing outside in the rain? Remus, you shouldn’t be out!”

You and Remus just look at each other and then simultaneously look back at the woman, flashing similar, innocent smiles and Hope melts.

”For the love of God,” she mutters. ”Go on, get changed, before you both get sick. I’ll handle the puddles you’ve left.”

”Thanks Hope!” you call out, hurrying up to Remus's room.

Later, you’re both sitting on his bed, talking about Hogwarts again. You’ve both changed into dry clothes; you got to borrow a jumper and shorts from Remus, it works fine since you’re roughly the same size. Remus has managed to fit in a nap as well, exhausted from your small adventure, and you entertain yourself by going through his stacks of books and choosing the first one that seems entertaining enough to read. 

There’s a knock on the doorframe, and you both know that it’s Lyall before you even look. He’s the only one that does that; Hope usually announces her presence with a soft ’kids?’. 

”Hello there,” he says in his deep voice. He’s wearing another one of his earth-toned, worn suits, indicating that he probably just got home from work. ”Heard you got caught in the rain.”

You nod, eyes wide. ”It came out of nowhere!” 

”That is Wales for you,” Lyall smiles. ”Do you have time? I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

”Both of us?” you ask, sitting up straighter and turning fully towards Lyall as you and Remus both watch him grab Remus's desk chair and setting it down in front of the bed, like he always does when it’s time to talk. 

It makes you a little worried. 

”Well, mostly you, in fact, but Remus should listen too,” Lyall explains as he sits down and you feel yourself grow nervous because what would Mr Lupin want to talk to you about? 

”Okay,” you reply softly, before falling into a silence waiting for him to start. 

You watch intently as the man’s gaze falls to his hands as he picks a little at a scratch on his palm. It’s apparently from him that Remus got the bad habit from. You’ve just never seen Lyall uncomfortable before. 

”This isn’t going to be a particularly fun conversation,” he begins, slowly raising his gaze to meet yours. ”And I’m sorry to be the one to tarnish your view on magic and the wizarding world, but I think you should know.”

You nod slowly, swallowing. Your pulse is starting to pick up a little, but you take a deep breath in hopes of calming it down, because you don’t even know yet what he is about to say. 

Lyall sighs softly before picking up again. ”Wizarding Britain is quite a small community compared to the muggle part of it. And in this community there’s a lot of old, wizarding families that are very powerful and tightly knit together. And within this group, there’s a certain culture, well, certain opinions.”

He pauses as if to check that you are both keeping up with his tale. You nod again, tentatively. 

”There has long been a belief amongst wizards and witches that people with magic are simply better than muggles,” Lyall begins again and you bite your lips. The thought of the world you’re about to join not liking your parents is… scary. ”And while the views have changed over the years to become much more open minded, these old families hold onto the belief that muggles are less worthy and muggleborns shouldn’t be allowed an education at Hogwarts.”

You barely register Remus reaching out for you upon hearing this, lost in your thoughts. Would the other kids at Hogwarts not like you?

”They aren’t particularly fond of half-bloods either, which is what they call children with one parent who was born to parents who are both magical, and with the other parent being a muggle, muggle-born or born to muggleborns,” Lyall explains slowly, turning his eyes to his son. ”And they do not appreciate werewolves either, but of course, our intention is for other students to not find out about your condition, Remus.”

Remus clutches your arm tighter in his hands, and you subconsciously squeeze his hand. Lyall’s gaze falls to your hands reaching for each other and he somehow looks more devastated. 

”I know this isn’t fun to hear and I truly wish the circumstances were different. Of course, the people who do not share these views are as many, or more, and just as strong. And at Hogwarts it is strictly forbidden to use deprecatory slurs, and all children are just as welcome. Your teachers are going to treat you all equally too, but I wanted you to know so you can prepare yourself. Not everyone you meet is going to be as accepting,” Lyall finishes and he sounds genuinely sad. ”Just remember that it’s _not_ you that’s wrong in any way. It’s them, it’s their problem. You haven’t done anything wrong at all.” 

It’s unsettling, to see him hang his head like that; slouched forward in the chair, brown hair slowly turning grey hanging into his eyes. For a moment, you don’t know what to say. 

”Write to me, both of you, if anyone is unkind to you, and I’ll help in any way that I can,” Lyall speaks up again, filling the silence that has fallen. ”Look after each other. And the professors, tell the professors.”

”We will, dad,” Remus says softly, his voice sounding a little strained. 

”Good,” Lyall murmurs, looking down at his large, calloused hands once more. They hang limply from where his forearms are rested on his knees. ”I’m sorry.”

”It’s not your fault,” you whisper because your own voice betrays you. 

You vaguely notice that your hands are pressed into tight fists, your nails digging white crescents into your palms. That your eyes are stinging, as you stare at nothing in particular somewhere in front of you. You find it hard to look at Mr Lupin; you understand very well that it in fact isn’t his fault, that he’s just the messenger, but still, you can’t. And looking at Remus would probably just make you crumble, starting to sob. 

”No,” Lyall replies softly. ”But still.”

The chair scrapes against the floor as he stands up with a slight effort, like his joints ache. You listen as it’s lifted off the floor and gently put down by the desk. Heavy footfalls making the floor creak disappear into the distance, fading out as they head down the stairs. You continue to stare out into the air in front of you, as an escaping sniffle betrays you, and you curl your hands up even tighter. 

Remus squeezes your hand. ”Would you like to go outside?” he asks softly and for a moment you don’t know.

You don’t really want to do anything, but you find yourself nodding slowly. 

A couple of minutes later, you’re slowly walking towards the forest, starting at the other end of their garden. The grass is damp and little drops of water cling to the tips of it, looking like pearls, twinkling in the sunlight. A bird is chirping in the distance in a pretty melody. 

The chat by the school seems far away. Biking to Remus early in the morning could’ve been a week ago. 

Your head is spinning with bad thoughts. _They won’t like you, they don’t want you to come, they’ll be mean and maybe you don’t even deserve to have magic._

Remus seems to know and curls his arm tighter around yours; they’re hooked together like they often are. 

Reaching the forest, Remus continues to walk until he’s too tired, which isn’t very far, but far enough for the sight of the cottage to be concealed by the trees surrounding you. 

You come to a stop and you look expectantly at him, squinting your eyes a little against the sunlight that seeps through the leafage above. 

”We’re going to scream,” Remus explains then, a glimpse shining in his golden eyes. ”It’ll feel much better, I promise. I used to do it all the time.”

You give him a skeptical look, about to answer and question it, when he interrupts you.

”Watch and learn.”

Then he drags in a deep breath and screams. It’s high-pitched and he’s tilting his body backwards, flexing his fingers, his cheeks turning red. You place your hands over your ears and stare at him, scrunching up your nose while not knowing if you should feel disturbed by the sound of it, or amused by the looks of it. 

The scream quickly starts to sound strained but he continues until he’s out of air. 

It sends it right into a coughing fit once he’s done. You reach out for him, but he chokes out that it’s okay, and manages to stop it shortly after. Then he straightens up and gives you a weak, but mischievous, grin as if he hadn’t just been choking. How he manages to look so collected for you, is a mystery, but at the same time, you do the same for him.

”Your turn,” he says, simply and you are about to protest again, when he holds up a hand, stopping you like how a police would gesture to stop a car. ”Trust me, it works.”

”Alright,” you murmur under your breath, until you turn somewhat away from Remus and stare out into the forest. 

Then you breathe in, charging up your batteries, and then you scream with everything you have, leaning down over yourself, beginning to fold up like a beach chair. You squeeze your hands up into fists again as your throat becomes raw, bellowing your heart out. You figure that it must look quite funny; you standing in the forest, screaming like a maniac, dressed in Remus's clothes and with your hair still damp and tangled from the rain. 

When your scream eventually fades out, you’re out of breath. Chest heaving, you listen to the quiet forest. The birds have stopped chirping now and it’s entirely still. You turn your head towards Remus, a ghost of a smile on your face that grows once you see Remus grinning at you as well. 

A voice travelling through the forest, startles you both.

”Excuse me?” 

You whirl around to see an elder lady, with a small poodle that doesn’t look to particularly enjoy the hike through the forest, staring at you with a pale face and wide eyes. 

”Are you alright? _What are you doing?”_ she questions in a croaky voice. 

Besides you, Remus snorts which doesn’t help you trying to seem collected as you launch into a rushed explanation. 

”Everything is fine! Me and my friend here just do this for fun. I’m sorry if we scared you,” you call back. 

She stares at you like you’re absolutely mad, her lipstick red lips pursed into a thin line. You flash her an innocent smile and Remus is trying very hard not to laugh out loud. The lady just mutters something to herself — to quietly for you to hear over the distance between you — and turns around to leave. 

”That was embarrassing,” Remus says once she’s out of earshot, looking at her disappearing form.

You giggle. ”Yeah, it was.”

You look at each other in silence because although it was relieving, it feels weird to start screaming again now. Before you know it though, Remus steps forward and pulls you into a tight hug. 

A little startled, it takes you a movement before you gather your wits to hug him back. 

”It’ll be alright,” he murmurs into your shoulder. ”Anyone who judges you because your parents are muggles is an idiot. You are great. And I will protect you, like you’ve protected me.”

You smile into his shoulder. ”Thank you Remus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A LONG chapter! 
> 
> Didn't feel right to part it and well, the others have been quite short, so I guess that it's only right, although not very consistent. It's also kind back and forth and a lot mixed in but didn't days always kinda feel like that when you were a kid? One just did so much in one day, biking here and there, doing this and that and days could go on forever.
> 
> Either way, time jump! Things are starting to happen which is fun, although it was quite cosy/peaceful in a weird way to write about you and Remus as kids back in Wales. Comforting almost.
> 
> Image (that didn't really mean anything I just thought it was pretty and that's pretty much how I imagine the fields of flowers and stuff in their home town): https://i.pinimg.com/564x/2b/dd/b3/2bddb381f9eb7f2d40f4c10b2bbd72b5.jpg
> 
> ALSO: I LOVE make pinterest boards for every single thing I write, so here is the one for this story:  
> https://pin.it/5LIXmVS  
> It includes inspiration for later on it the story but oh well.


	6. The Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New faces, new school, new adventures.

**Wednesday,** **September 1st, 1971**

The departure is an overwhelming experience with the train station swarming with families. King’s cross is full and something is clearly going on. The muggles probably notice it too. You keep looking around yourself, even though you really should be focusing on Lyall so you don’t get lost but your eyes keep drifting to the people around you. Luckily he’s tall and quite easy to spot in a crowd. 

You wonder who is going to Hogwarts out of them. Some wizards and witches are quite easy to spot; owls aren’t a very common pet outside of the wizarding community. You were amazed when you first found out that it was normal to people like Remus and his dad. 

And for some families there’s just no way to tell. A lot are probably quite good at hiding and then there should be a number of muggle-borns just like you and they melt right into mass. 

You just have to wait until boarding the train. By the sorting which you’ve been told awaits this evening, it should be clear. 

Remus and you end up saying goodbye to Hope and your parents by the regular platform, the only one visible to muggles. You make sure to give all three of them a really tight hug; Hope and Lyall are definitely a sort of extra-parents to you at this stage. Hanging out with Remus’s family is almost as comfortable and natural as hanging out with your own. But frankly there’s just too much on your mind — you’re stressed because the train is leaving in just ten short minutes, and also anxious, nervous and  _ excited  _ — for you to be really sad about leaving them, at least right now. The homesickness and longing will probably settle in later, instead. 

Lyall is the one to take you to the hidden platform, the one used for wizards and witches, and you and Remus trail behind him like a pair of ducklings. He moves with ease, and he looks excited as well. His eyes are bright and there’s a small smile on his face. It’s probably nostalgic for him, you remind yourself. 

And it wasn’t always a given that Remus would get to go to Hogwarts. He’s likely very proud. 

The thought makes you all warm and fuzzy in your chest and you smile too. Remus catches your expression and returns it, as if he knows what you’re thinking of, before you both go back to training your eyes on Lyall’s back. 

Your stomach twists and your heart does somersaults once Lyall finally stops in front of a wall, which you realise upon looking up at the numbers at the ends of it, lies between platforms nine and ten. 

”Who wants to go first?” he asks and manages to look like a kid in a candy store. 

He seems the most energetic that you’ve ever seen him since you met three years ago. 

You and Remus look at each other, wide-eyed. Remus looks a little pale and you look back at Lyall. 

”I can go first,” you say, forcing your voice to be even, thinking that maybe if you sounded calm, then you could convince yourself that you are. 

Your heart still hammers in your chest to the point that you almost feel dizzy and you nod to yourself. Apart from a few moments of accidental magic, you haven’t experienced much magic. Or at least not mind-boggling things like jumping through a portal. It’s just been Lyall’s occasional tricks and dancing Christmas decorations at Remus’s house during the holidays. 

Well, there was your trip to Diagon Alley but you were so excited and mind-blown the visit that the details are blurry. It seems far away and now you can feel Lyall and Remus, as well as another family behind them, waiting for you to run into a wall. 

”Right,” Lyall says cheerily and bends down a little, so that your eyes are more even. ”You just have to walk straight into it. Don’t be scared and don’t stop. If you’re nervous, which I suppose that you are, then I recommend running. I ran my first two years, I remember.”

You nod again, several eyes as you train your eyes on the wall. ”I’m going to run.”

”Good choice,” Lyall replies. ”It’ll go great. We’ll see you on the other side.”

You nodded once more, and breathed in deeply, and out again. Then you balled your hands into fists, and leaned back for a moment, getting ready. 

And then you run. It’s just a short distance, a handful of meters, so you lean forward a bit to be able to gain some speed. You probably look ridiculous but you don’t care, too focused on not screaming and not stopping as your instincts scream at you to do. 

Reptile brain. That’s what your mum calls it and that must be what really wants you to stop but you can’t. Lyall told you not to. 

Instead you just close your eyes and await the inevitable slam to your face and chest and knees and following nose bleed but it doesn’t happen. In contrast to the collision you expected you stumble forward until you manage to stop, catching yourself on an opposite wall. 

You catch your breath for a moment, taking in that you didn’t crash and that you made it, listening to the murmur of kids and parents saying goodbye, as well as the low rumble of the train engine. 

Suddenly Remus yelps behind you and you see your best friend coming stumbling in your direction. Instinctively, to reach out an arm, catching him across the shoulders. He catches himself by grabbing yours in return and your eyes meet. His golden ones look absolutely wild and blown and then he laughs, a bubbly sound of relief.

You laugh too, a quiet, nervous sound yet disbelieving and excited still.

”That went surprisingly well,” Remus comments, a bit out of breath, right before Lyall steps through the wall with your and Remus’s trunks in his hands. 

You hurry forward to take it from his hand, a bit stressed since in all honesty, you only just now realised that you were missing it. You haven’t spent a second until now thinking of it since you put it down in front of the wall between platform nine and ten. 

”Good job, you two,” Lyall says once you and Remus take your trunks. ”Welcome to platform 9 3/4.”

You look around yourself once more. There are a ton of people, some already wearing their colourful scarfs. There’s cats and owls and toads and large trunks. 

Your eyes linger on a boy who tries to avoid hugs from his mum and said mum whose smile is looking increasingly strained. 

And then you see the train. It’s beautiful, one of those old ones. It’s a steam engine with red details and it huffs small clouds out of the chimney and it just looks so cosy and you  _ can’t wait  _ to get on it. 

”You can get on in just a minute,” Lyall says when he sees your eyes catching on the train. ”I just want to say a proper goodbye first. 

He places a large hand on Remus’s shoulder and the other one on yours.

”Take care of each other,” he says and you nod.

”Of course, Dad,” Remus replies softly, nodding too. 

”Good,” Lyall hums. ”Remember to write home. We want to hear from you. And if there’s any trouble at school, write to me.” 

”We will,” you reply earnestly, speaking for you and Remus both. In the background, there’s a whistling somewhere down the platform, indicating that the train will leave shortly. ”We promise.”

Meanwhile, Lyall’s eyes look a little glossy, and your heart clenches a bit in your chest. Besides you, Remus’s eyes look a little glossy too as he looks up at his father. 

Lyall bends down a bit again, and opens his arms. You and Remus both step into them without hesitation and Lyall wraps his long arms around you, engulfing you in a hug. You stay for a few seconds that thankfully feel like they stretch onto several more than they are before he lets you go and in that moment, you know that it’s up to you now. This is the start of  _ your  _ adventure and Lyall and Hope and your parents have let you go. 

”Alright, hurry along now,” Lyall says and you and Remus grab your bags. 

You begin to move towards the train. In the corner of your eye, you see Remus giving Lyall’s middle an extra squeeze with his free arm and Lyall ruffles his hair, before he hurries after you. You jump on the train, right as the last whistle goes off, signalling that the train is leaving. 

Once on, you instantly race to a window, opening it and hanging your upper bodies out so that you can wave back at Lyall. 

”Be careful!” he calls when you do, and you both snicker but also do slow down a bit, making sure to keep the entirety of your sole on the floor inside the train and not balancing on your tippy-toes, halfway out the window. 

”Bye, Lyall!” you call right as the train begins moving. 

”Bye, dad!” Remus exclaims next to you, waving energetically at his dad, who waves back. 

Just before the train turns with the tracks and Lyall disappears from view, you think you see him wipe at his eyes. 

The rest of the ride is more monotonous, but by no means boring. Instead you appreciate the slower pace, not having to stress and wonder where you need to go and if you’re going to make it in time.

Now you just sit here, next to Remus, and wait. You’ve found an empty compartment to sit in — it has four deep red seats, a table between them and light purple curtains by the window — and so far you’re alone.

A while after leaving the station, however — you have no clue how much time has passed but you’re definitely out of London now; only green hills outside of the window — there’s a knock on the door to your compartment. You stand up, stretching your legs, and go to open it, but just before you reach it it’s pulled open from the outside and you come face to face with a girl, your noses only inches apart. 

She has fiery red hair that your gaze immediately fixes itself on, and brilliant green eyes. 

”Sorry,” she says and flashes an innocent smile as you shrug backwards in surprise. ”We were just looking for somewhere to sit… can we join you?”

You briefly wonder who  _ we _ are, but then your gaze catches onto a boy with longer black hair somewhat hiding behind the girl; barely visible from the inside of the compartment, especially since the girl hasn’t opened the door all the way yet. 

You glance back at Remus who gives a discreet nod as a silent confirmation and you turn back to the two strangers and nod. ”Yeah, of course.”

”Thank you,” the girl beams, smiling at you. Her friend looks less excited, a somewhat bitter and skeptical expression painting his features as he eyes you and Remus warily. He does follow her dutifully however, not protesting a bit. 

You sit down next to your best friend again, watching them putting down their trunks and shuffling around for a bit, before sitting down opposite to you. 

”I’m Lily,” the girl introduces herself and reaches out her hand to you first and then Remus, and you both shake it. She has a firm grip, you note, before she retracts it. Then she gestures to the boy next to her, who makes no move at all to shake any hands. You let yours drop to your lap. ”And this is Severus. We’re neighbours and best friends.”

”Nice to meet you,” you reply, mostly looking at Lily because you don’t particularly like the look Severus is giving you. It’s not mean or angry per se but clearly distrusting and very scrutinising. It makes you twist a little in your seat, so you focus on Lily’s warmer, energetic aura instead.

Lily then asks who you are, interested in making conversation — you understand her, because frankly she and Severus seem like an odd duo and right now he doesn’t seem to be in a mood for chatting — and you tell her your names and explain your own history in a summarised version. 

You quickly decide that you like Lily. She’s funny and easy to talk to. After a while, Remus picks up his book and begins reading — how he can concentrate is beyond you — and Severus just sort of stare into nothing, but you and Lily continue to chat, finding out more and more about each other as well as pondering which house you think you’ll fit in. 

”There’s four right; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and…?” you begin, getting stuck on the last one.

You and Remus have talked about this a lot before but nerves cloud your mind. Everything’s quite overwhelming, and so you focus on Lily who seems quite unbothered, just energetic and excited. 

”Ravenclaw,” Lily fills in. ”Which one would you like to be in?”

”I don’t know,” you admit, sitting back in your seat, tapping your chin as you think. ”My parents are muggles so I don’t know that much about them, except for what Remus has told me, of course.”

”My parents are muggles too!” Lily says, green eyes bright as she leans forward in her seat, face split in a smile. 

”Really?” you ask, smiling now too as you shuffle forward as well. 

It’s too good to be true. You’ve been worried about how you’ll be received at Hogwarts since Lyall told you about that pure-blood craziness, but to hear that your first friend at Hogwarts — that you’ve made  _ before _ actually setting a foot inside the school — is just like you is incredibly reassuring.

”They are! I guess you can imagine their faces when they saw me doing magic,” she replies and snickers. 

You grin too. ”I  _ can.  _ What did you do?”

”I made my sister’s favourite shirt yellow. She  _ hates _ yellow,” Lily says, satisfaction passing through her orbs, but there’s something else there too. 

Lyall has told you that accidental magic often happens as a result of strong emotions and if Lily had been angry with her sister, she probably had to be to ruin her favourite shirt, then maybe there’s some hurt there too. 

”What about you?”

”Oh, I broke Remus’s door,” you state and Remus snorts beside you and you send him a grin before looking back at Lily, who gapes.

”What?” she laughs, ”how did that happen?” 

”It’s a long story,” you say, not wanting to drag up the whole story about how the younger you thought that Remus potentially was dying, especially not in front of the still-quiet-and-staring Severus.

”You’ll just have to tell it to me later,” Lily responds, not letting it go entirely, sitting back a bit again. ”You see, now I’m curious.”

”Okay, then. Later,” you smile. ”I promise.”

”Good.”

”And about the houses, Remus’s dad was in Gryffindor and he’s the best, so maybe that,” you go on, only just now remembering what Lily asked you to begin with.

”Severus’s mum was in Slytherin,” Lily replies. ”That house seems cool too. They’re ambitious, apparently.”

You continue to discuss Hogwarts for a bit but the train ride is long, and after about half of it, even you and Lily are starting to become a little tired and fall into a comfortable silence; as comfortable as it gets with Severus now resorting to shooting you glares. Remus, whose shoulder you’re now leaning your head against, nails Severus’s black eyes with his own golden gaze in a silently scowling manner. You can’t see Remus’s expression from your angle, but you see Severus’s eyes go from harsh to a little less so.

It’s interesting how similar their story is to Remus and yours; a muggle-born girl and a half-blood wizard who are childhood best friends that mostly keep to each other and no one else, now going to Hogwarts together. You and Lily seem to so far fit well together, but Remus and Severus seem to be nothing alike except being the more introverted of the pair. While Remus is protective of you like you are of him, he’s never possessive in the way Severus seems to already be of Lily. 

If they’re going to stick together, then maybe it’ll be hard to spend time with Lily, because being on the receiving end of Severus’s quiet but hard glances isn’t fun. 

But you don’t know, maybe he’ll warm up and change. Although your gut feeling already has made an assessment, the logical part of your brain tells you that it is too early to decide and that you should give him a fair chance first. 

The arrival at Hogsmeade comes faster than expected, and you realise that you accidentally fell asleep on Remus’s shoulder. It’s only when he shakes you awake that you realise that you’re actually here and there are butterflies in your stomach and a huge smile on your face when you step off the train and see the silhouette of a large castle against the darkening sky. 

An hour later, you and Remus sit opposite of each other at the Gryffindor table, sharing grins so large that your cheeks hurt, because it’s too good to be true. The worst of the nervousness is wearing off, but your heart is still hammering in your chest like a humming bird’s, and you almost feel shaky, overwhelmed with the energy and greatness of it all. 

Remus’s eyes seem to sparkle in the candle light. 

You and Remus are going to live together, have classes together, share a common room and probably friends for the next seven years. Seven years, that is  _ so long _ , more than twice as long as you’ve actually known each other so far and it’s an entire eternity and you’re  _ so _ excited. 

Lily sits next to you too — she gave you an exited, enormous hug as soon as you were reunited at the table of red and gold — but Severus is nowhere to be seen, on the other side of the room, and you feel a little sorry for him for a moment, but your thoughts are shattered by the large roar of applause and cheering that erupts at the Gryffindor table each time a new student joins them and you can’t help but to join in; so overwhelmed yet so happy at the same time. 

It feels so right, especially with Remus opposite of you, sending you excited glances every now and then. And the feeling of knowing that the universe had a back up plan — if you and your parents hadn’t moved to Remus’s hometown, then you would’ve still met at Hogwarts — is fantastic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The adventure of Hogwarts has begun!
> 
> I'm gonna miss the lovely atmosphere I've created in my head regarding their small town in Wales, but hey, there's still the summer breaks. 
> 
> Oh, and if anyone has any feedback, that would make my week. Although there's still a lot more people that have checked in on this story than I expected which is so so so much fun! Makes me really happy.


End file.
